


The Smaller Moments in Life

by Mystic_Harley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_Harley/pseuds/Mystic_Harley
Summary: There are days in Harry's life where the world seems to press down on his shoulders, and it's those days where the small moments tend to be the biggest.





	The Smaller Moments in Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookscorpion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/gifts).



Hogsmeade is too loud for Harry on days like today. The bustle of the crowd, the muted roar of students, like a percussion orchestra gearing up to play their bombastic melodies, the sound of crunching grass and the odd contradiction of chilly air and warm sunlight of Fall was all too much for him on a day like today.  
  
A day where he wanted to stay in bed, to hide away from the world and forget about his problems. To ignore how his head throbbed painfully and try to push the panic (or was that anxiety? He could never tell) that welled in his stomach and threatened to make him sick. To ignore the stab of hurt and pain he felt whenever Ron turned his nose up at him, believing that his name had been in the Goblet of Fire on purpose.  
  
He sighed, hands shoved in his pockets for warmth, breath curling into the air. Hermione had her arm linked around his, half dragging him down the busy road. He glanced up at the sky, noting how remarkably clear it was for Hogwarts. He let Hermione practically carry him towards one of the shops, he didn’t pay attention to which one until the unmistakable smell of Honeydukes permeated his nose, tickling it with delights he could still only dream of.  
  
Raising an eyebrow at his best friend, Hermione kept a tight grip on his arm as she pushed past the crowded store. Before he could open his mouth, she fished out a coin purse from god knows where and glanced up at one of the shelves. Her lips moved, silently counting the money she had before pointing her wand at one of the jars and levitating it down towards her. Carefully, she extracted a generous handful of sweets and moved towards the counter, waiting patiently for her turn. “These and two big mugs of hot chocolate please.”  
  
Now he was insanely curious as she handed him the bag of treats and the mug of piping hot chocolate, maneuvering him out of the shop. “Come on.” She said, as if this was a daily occurrence they had together. Deciding not to argue, he followed her, sipping on the chocolate and feeling the pins and needles of warmth undo the knot surrounding his heart a tiny bit, the chilly wind turning more warm and pleasant as they headed out of the village proper and leaned on the fence that lead up to the Shrieking Shack. Hermione sipped on her coffee, glancing at him. “Well? You can eat them you know. I bought them for you.”  
  
Curious, he opened the bag and a small gasp escaped him. Now he recognized what these were. Small, individually wrapped slices of Treacle Tart, perfectly preserved. She must have bought a dozen of them if not more based on how many were in here. Carefully, he unwrapped the first one and bit into it, the dessert’s magic working faster than the hot chocolate. He greedily downed the first slice. “You didn’t…” He started, but she shook her head.  
  
“I know. You don’t treat yourself enough, so I figured I had to do it for you.” She sipped her drink, leaning on the fence. The wind whipped their hair a little, but he found he didn’t mind. She had an unreadable expression on her face, staring outwards at the nothingness in the distance, lost in her own thoughts. “It’s worrying sometimes Harry, and frustrating, knowing that all I can do can’t get you out of this.”  
  
He moved closer to her, inhaling another slice of tart and giving her a curious look. “You do enough for me, Hermione. You’ve helped me out already this year, I’m overqualified on my defense spellwork.” He chewed his lip a little, staring off at the shack. “…And you’re here for me. Without you I’d… “He trailed off, the words lumping in his throat.  
  
She understood, mercifully, and rest her head on his shoulder. “I know. I know.”  
  
There was a quiet, bitter laugh from him. “God Hermione, why is everything so messed up? I have to compete in some old tournament and what’s my first challenge? Dragons! I can’t face up against a _Dragon_ , Hermione!” He laughed loudly, a touch of hysteria creeping in his tone, but he wolfed another tart down from the bag. “I wonder if I can just phone it in, figure out a way to do the bare minimum.”  
  
She wrapped a comforting arm around him, and he moved closer towards her warmth. “You’ll figure out a way Harry. I won’t let you die because some dragon thinks it can roast you alive like a marshmallow.”  
  
He snorted at the analogy. “I think you’re giving me a little too much credit there, I wouldn’t taste nearly as good.”  
  
They shared a small laugh, before Hermione climbed over the rickety fence and beckoned him forward. “Come on.” A bit awkwardly, he clambered after her and together they walked up the hill towards the old house, only for Hermione to stop halfway up and sit down, sipping more of her cocoa.  
  
Sitting next to her, Harry shifted his gaze out towards the town. They weren’t very far from it, but the people looked so much smaller up where they sat. The noise wasn’t as severe here, his head hurt a lot less. “I’m… afraid, Hermione.” He said after a moment.  
  
She said nothing, and he took it as a sign to continue. “I’m so _angry_ all the time. Angry and… “He fished for the right word, staring off into the distant and never-ending horizon. “Tired. I guess. There are days where I just go through the motions and think to myself: ‘Why do I bother?’” He heaved a sigh, taking another bite of tart, he had already devoured half of the stock Hermione bought him. “But I think of you, and Ron, and the other Weasleys, and Sirius and I know that I can’t just… give up.”  
  
“Why not?” She asked. Her tone was curious, shifting closer. “Would anyone blame you for wanting to throw in the towel?”  
  
“No, I suppose not. I doubt anyone really expects me to _survive_ this stupid tournament.” He took another bite, sipping his chocolate to wash it down. “…This is a bit of a non-sequitur-“  
  
“Try me.”  
  
“Do you want to stay in the magical world after we graduate? Assuming, of course, we do graduate.”  
  
Hermione finished off the last of her hot chocolate, sighing before laying back on her back, hand resting over her stomach. “…I don’t know. It’s difficult to tell what the future has in store for us. I don’t pretend to tell the future like that fraud Trelawny.” She let out a small huff of indignation, before her face melted back into a contemplative hum.  
  
“I don’t think I could abandon it completely, not anymore.” She finally conceded. “I think I’d have wasted 7 years of my life if I did. What about you?”  
  
Harry lay down beside her, staring up at the sky. “Once I’m rid of the Dursleys?” He asked, taking the time to choose his words. “Maybe. I know not all muggles are awful people like the Dursleys, your parents sound wonderful. And… I think the most important part is that no one will know who I am. I’ll go to the grocery store and pick up some bread and some milk and no one’s going to look at me and go ‘Wow, that’s Harry Potter! What kind of milk does he buy so we can put it in the paper that he hates 2%!’ or something like that.” He waved his hand lazily in the air. “I know how to cook and clean, not by choice but I have the skills, and I could easily pick up a job. I have enough money in my vault so I don’t _technically_ have to work but I don’t really like the idea of sitting on a house doing nothing.”  
  
He blew out a breath, crossing one leg over the other and placing his hands behind his head. “It would be nice to have some peace and quiet though. Have a little cottage in the countryside, maybe a small little garden full of nice-looking flowers. Hell, maybe I’ll even get a dog.”  
  
Hermione hummed in thought. “Get a cat. Much less maintenance.”  
  
“Cat would work too.” He conceded. “But that’s a long way’s away. Maybe I’ll change my mind then, but I can’t stand the idea of being an _adult_ in the wizarding world, being the Boy-Who-Lived or whatever the hell they call me these days. I’ll be offered jobs and positions that I’m just not equipped to handle.”  
  
“And what kind of job do you want?”  
  
This was starting to sound like ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’ to Harry, but as he wasn’t sure he _could_ grow up, it didn’t hurt to dream. “Something nice, I can’t see myself being a librarian, sorry, I know. Heartbreaking.” Hermione clutched her heart dramatically and said, ‘oh you wound me!’ with a smile on her face. He grinned back at her. “Maybe working at a coffee shop or a café or something.”  
  
“Seems kind of…small town, don’t you think?”  
  
“Maybe small town is what I want.” He could picture it in his mind’s eye if he really thought about it. An older Harry Potter, a little war-weary but with a smile on his face as the most pressing issue of the day was making sure the coffee machine was working and that they had enough whipped cream for the little cakes the café served.  
  
Wearing an apron and working register, making small talk with the locals and attending community events. Having Ron and Hermione visit and him showing them around, taking them to the really good restaurant tucked away in some hidden corner that only locals knew about.  
  
“What about romance?” Hermione asked, pulling Harry gently from his daydreams.  
  
He shrugged a shoulder, feeling a sense of weariness wash over him as the wind tickled his nose and made it itchy. “God if I know, honest. How am I supposed to know who’s the right girl-“  
  
“Or boy.” Hermione chimed in.  
  
Harry paused for a moment, considering. “Or boy, maybe. I’ll do some thinking about that later. But… how am I going to know who wants to be with me for… _me?_ ”  
  
She tilted her head, looking at him fondly. “I think you’ll know. Isn’t that what people always say? They just _know._ ”  
  
“Well I hope I at least don’t die a virgin.”  
  
“Harry!” She exclaimed, hitting him on the arm but laughing along with him anyways. “You’re awful!”  
  
“No, I’m Harry.” He grinned as he got hit on the arm again for his trouble. “What about you? Any boy or girl catch your fancy?”  
  
A warm blush spread across her cheeks at that, and she pointedly locked her eyes on a particularly non-interesting cloud formation drifting lazily across the empty sky. “A few. I suppose you’ve noticed Victor Krum making googly eyes at me.”  
  
He snorted, biting into more treacle. “You need to be as thick as Ron not too notice. And Ron’s pretty thick.”  
  
“I can’t argue with you there. I think Krum likes that I don’t care much about his fame-or Quidditch, I can’t really tell truthfully. His English isn’t very good. And Ron…” She sighed out wearily. “Well, I don’t know how long he’s going to be stupid, but I shouldn’t wait for him to come around to the idea that yes I might actually fancy him. Shocking, isn’t it?”  
  
“I’m electrified.” Harry deadpanned, nodding in agreement to what she said. “Yeah I think just about everyone can see it. Why’d you bring me over here anyways?”  
  
She spared a glance at him and smiled. “Because Harry, I could tell you were in a lot of pain. Not just your scar, but I know what a headache looks like and how you try to hide it from me. I’m not as thick as Ron you know.” He was almost insulted she thought he thought that of her, but she pressed on. “Sometimes you just need a day to yourself. A nice couple of hours not doing anything and maybe someone to remind you that hey, Harry James Potter, you’re worth it and always will be worth it. That you have people out there, people that you haven’t met yet, that don’t care about your fame or your scar or that you like 2% Milk.” She scooted closer to him. “People that care about you and you alone.”  
  
He beamed broadly at her, pulling her in for a big hug and unwilling to let her go. “Thank you.” He whispered into her hair. “Thank you so much.”  
  
She hugged him back, her voice muffled against his chest. “Of course, Harry.”  
  
All of the tart and chocolate was starting to get to him, and he closed his eyes. “Do you think anyone would care if I took a nap here?”  
  
“Probably, but who cares. Just say you were out here practicing spells. It’s not like they’ll call you a liar.”  
  
“You watch!” He exclaimed sleepily, but soon felt himself drift off towards unconsciousness.  
  
Harry still dreamed, of course. In the brief respite he got from the waking world, he for once had pleasant dreams. Dreams of possible futures for him and his friends, of surviving his life and all of the wonders he would see once the nightmare had ended.  
  
He dreamed of travelling, of scourging the globe and seeing sights one only saw in books and pamphlets. Of diving headfirst in the _World_ of wizards and everything that entailed beyond the small sample platter of Europe’s three finest at Hogwarts.  
  
When he awoke, it notably much colder and dusk. Hermione sat there, reading a book by dim wand-light, but when Harry adjusted his glasses properly, he saw the stars in the sky. Twinkling beautifully and he remembered his astronomy lessons, tracing constellations and trying to remember where Venus and Mars were at this time of night.  
  
“It’s beautiful out here, you know.”  
  
A hand reached down, gently stroking his hair. “I know it is Harry. I know it is.”  
  
He laid there for a few more moments, adoring the night sky above him before he slowly rose to his feet. “I suppose we should head back.” Hermione nodded, closing her book and tucking it away. Together they walked through the empty twilight of Hogsmeade and up towards the mighty doors of Hogwarts, pushing them open and stepping inside. The Great Hall’s warmth spread out across them like a blanket, the flickering lights and the benevolent noise of dinner loud to their ears.  
  
Hermione touched his arm. “Feel like eating dinner?”  
  
Harry pursed his lips. “…Can I grab and go? I think I’d rather have dinner with friends today. Hagrid’s good?”  
  
She smiled at him and lead him inside. “Of course you can. Load up and let’s be on our way. I’m not eating his rock cakes though.”  
  
He laughed and briefly, he sat down and grabbed a plate, piling all sorts of food onto it as Hermione did the same. He smiled and joked with a couple of the first years he rather rudely dropped in between, making small talk until he grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice and said his goodbyes just as quickly as his hellos, together with Hermione walking out of the Great Hall and back out towards the grounds, back out into the chilly night air and down towards Hagrid’s Hut.  
  
The door swung open after a bit of polite knocking, their large friend delighted to see them there, quickly ushering them in and putting the kettle on for tea, his mood soon turned overjoyed when Harry shyly asked if he could stay for dinner.  
  
“Harry, ye can stay as long as ye like.” Hagrid boomed, thumping Harry on the back and nearly forcing him to drop his food. “Ye can even have some o’me rock cakes.”  
  
For once, Harry smiled happily at that. “Thanks Hagrid, I’d like that. Really.”  
  
They sat and ate, talking and laughing throughout the night. By the time they had finally returned to Gryffindor Tower, it was well past curfew.  
  
Harry didn’t care though, it had been a good day. He gave a little smile to himself as he helped himself to the last of his treacle tart Hermione had bought him, before tucking in to bed, a smile on his normally frown-lined face for the first time in a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> A very, VERY very special thank you for @bookscorpion for making this amazing cover for me. I'm sobbing my eyes out and everyone should read their fics because they're an amazing writer.


End file.
